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Message: <blockquote data-quote="ForceUser" data-source="post: 927208" data-attributes="member: 2785">-Mordecai-The estate of Parv Delorn sat atop a low hill amid the houses of old money families and hereditary nobility. Although Lord Delorn’s fortune was new, his home was not; ancient iron gates opened to a cobbled drive with stones worn by the passage of a thousand highborn carriages. The grounds were expertly manicured and lush, and even now a troupe of gardeners discreetly worked their green art. Mordecai was not impressed. To bend the earth to your will to raise crops to feed your family, or to master sheep to shear wool to clothe you body – these were worthy tasks. To sculpt the landscape to suit your aesthetic desires, however, was a shallow pursuit invented by the wealthy so they could express their wealth to their neighbors. It reminded him again that by entering the Circle of the Vesve he had made the only sane choice in a world of madmen and misdirected fools. The thought didn’t comfort him, however. There were too many madmen and misdirected fools running things. He had yet to decide which category Lord Delorn belonged to. Mordecai had listened intently while the merchant explained his plan to the party the day before. He had kept his own counsel regarding the idea; the others were too wrapped up in phrases like noble quest and wilderness expedition and, ah yes, profitable venture to be clear-headed enough to think things through. They were still getting over the “honor” of being chosen for the task. Mordecai began to wonder how many other fools had marched gallantly to their deaths with visions of saving Oerth, but that train of thought led to morbidity, and there were enough things wrong with the world without inventing more to brood over. Mordecai was a tall, reed-thin man with leathery skin and a naturally dark complexion. He wore his earth-toned druid’s vestments proudly, which while in civilization often caused confusion in passerby because nobody could tell at a glance what religion he was supposed to represent. Mordecai was mostly oblivious to this scrutiny, however, and if anyone asked he’d give him a puzzled look and reply “Beory” as if it should have been obvious, which of course then led to him being confused with a cleric of that faith. If it bothered him, he never let it show.What did bother him were the unknowns. What awaited them beneath the Clatspurs? What was this living spell supposed to do? Were they truly capable of finding the Oerthnode? Could he trust Lord Delorn and his wizard, Aelic? There were too many unanswered questions. He suspected that if he knew the answers he wouldn’t like them. Mordecai sighed as he trudged up the walk to the manor house. He was no crusader, but the hierarchy of nature was badly off. A chaotic super-being beget of an extraplanar sire was systematically corrupting the natural order with no regard – no, make that a brazen disregard – for the consequences. Mordecai was a realist; the problem was far too large at this point for any one group to solve, and yet… And yet. The Circle thought in terms of containment and retribution. Mordecai, through Lord Delorn, saw a greater possibility. As long as he is not a madman or a fool, he thought darkly. We shall see.*** Dinner was a grand affair. The meal began with a course of garlic-stuffed brussel sprouts sautéed in a light walnut crème sauce, and buttered black bread. Following that came baked duck with apple and celery stuffing, eggnog soup, truffles-with-goat-cheese, and finally the main course, a lavish arrangement involving a spit-roasted lamb basted with a dark orange-and-poppyseed cream that made the mutton simultaneously tangy, musky, and light. Several vintages of quality wines were offered as well as dwarven ale for the lone interested party, who swilled enough for four guests but held his liquor like a veteran. Mordecai wondered in passing if Garlok felt any remorse for taking advantage of Parv’s hospitality so vociferously. He suspected the dwarf had been tossed from his fair share of taverns. At least he wasn’t an angry drunk.Ironically, most of the party ate little. Dera nibbled at her food like a lady, Erak begged off, complaining of a sore stomach, Travis had a full bowl of soup but little else, Garlok drank far more than he ate, and Mordecai, feeling guilty for partaking of such an unnecessarily overdone meal, consumed no more than a bite or two of each course. The good reverend seemed to have no such problems with the dinner and thus ate with appreciation, while the one-armed wizard Aelic quietly enjoyed the lamb as Lord Delorn rattled on about the wars, oblivious to his guests’ appetites. For some reason, that bothered Mordecai more than the lavishness of the meal itself. “Of course, with the incursion into the northern reaches of this country, little could be done to aid the Shieldlanders. It was all King Belvor could do to keep the Old One’s forces at bay here. Eventually we drove him out, but the border has been, shall we say, mutable ever since.” Aelic nodded as Lord Delorn finished up. He spoke with the confidence of one who had discussed the same subject hundreds of times. Reverend Falco considered Parv’s words for a moment then said, “But what of Veluna, my lord? Surely the Canon’s forces could have bolstered the Shieldlanders.” Aelic was already shaking his head. The merchant gulped down a drink and explained. “That would have been ideal, of course, but it wasn’t until the Old One moved into Furyondy that we realized the fullness of his power and depravity. Through his clerics he had summoned untold numbers of fiends with which he commanded his armies. When they swarmed over Greatwall it was said one could hear the death throes of the citizens as far away as Lansfurd.”Dera shuddered.“By the time word arrived here, most of the Shield Lands had already fallen. Furyondy was still largely intact. The Canon’s army was small, so he made a decision.” Silence fell upon the table, and the lord set down his empty glass. A servant whisked it away. Minutes passed. Finally the priest said, “So. Tell me why I’m here.”Instead Parv asked, “What have you found out about Rakahn’s murderers?”The reverend looked surprised but replied, “They were agents of the Scarlet Sign. I know that much.” Parv nodded. “Were they looking for something?”The cleric blew out a frustrated breath. “I don’t know. Maybe. Rakahn didn’t seem to be the secretive sort; perhaps he stumbled across something he wasn’t supposed to see. Or maybe they just killed him for who he was; Pelor’s followers have long opposed the Brotherhood. I’ve informed the churches of Rao and Heironeous of everything I saw. Perhaps they will make some use of it.”Softly, the lord asked, “Did you witness it?”The priest shook his head. “No. I found him after.”Parv nodded again. Mordecai swallowed uncomfortably. He had last seen his companion alive three mornings past. Like Mordecai, Rakahn had been an early riser. A man of few words, he had nodded solemnly as he walked out to the yard to practice his archery. He had been a trustworthy person, and honorable. Mordecai had liked him.  Across the table, Dera dabbed at her eyes with the corner of a napkin. Garlok clumsily patted her hand and said, “There, there, lass. There, there.”“Travis,” of course, was inscrutable. Mordecai sighed and, elbows on the table, ran his hands through his tangled black mane. When he looked up, Parv was gazing at the reverend. “What would you say,” he began slowly, “If I told you that a way had been discovered to destroy the Old One forever?”The cleric at once appeared taken aback. Good, thought Mordecai, it’s not just me. Lord Delorn studied him intently. “I would say,” replied the reverend cautiously, “that I have heard that tale before.” Parv nodded, “Yes. What if it were not legend, but fact?”“I would say that it would be a miracle.”Parv smiled at that. “Of course. Miracles are your profession, are they not? Perhaps such a miracle exists.”Reverend Falco digested that. After a moment, he asked, “What does the King say of this?”“He will not take my counsel.”“And the great houses?”“They believe it wrong.”“Hmmm.”Parv waited. At length the priest spoke, “You believe this?”“Yes.”“You are commited to this?”“Yes.”“Why do you want to destroy Iuz?”At that, Aelic hissed and pointed a finger at the reverend accusingly. “Not in this house!”Falco nodded, “Forgive me. But why?” “Isn’t it obvious?”“Please.”Parv pushed back his chair and stood. “His domain has been a blight on our northern border all my life, and the lives of my father, and his father, and his father’s father. He has wreaked havoc upon us. His shadow grows always stronger, spreading across the northern Flanaess like a cancer. He has murdered thousands of my countrymen. He has brought suffering to hundreds of thousands more. An age of darkness is upon us such as has never before been seen in all of history, and he is the cause.”Falco studied him, “Yes. But why?”The lord closed his eyes and shuddered. He opened them, looked at the cleric and whispered, “Because I hate him.”The priest held his gaze. Minutes passed as Mordecai watched. Finally, Falco nodded as if waking from a reverie. “How do you intend to accomplish this?”At this, the wizard spoke. “Oerth is old, and harbors power from before the creation of time. There are places and things left over – echoes of creation, if you will – that yet possess control over certain…primeval forces.” Aelic rubbed the stump of his right arm, which ended just beyond the joint of his shoulder. “I lost this in the war, using the Art to defend my country. Others have lost more. I did not regret my sacrifice, but all the same I wondered if there was a different way. I studied for years and discovered something significant: even though the Enemy is both cambion and god, he is as bound to this world as any of us. He was birthed of the same elements of creation that forged us all, and he can be unmade by them.”Lord Delorn began to pace as Aelic continued. “There is a place in the northern reaches of the Clatspur Mountains that was once a citadel of dwarves. Below it, deep underground, is a locus of elemental earthen power. Some adventurers I once knew discovered it and relayed to me the tale. They told me that the stone there was as no stone they had ever seen. They told me that it formed a wall, and suspected that something lay beyond it. They discovered no more than that. This locality intrigued me and helped form the basis of a theory, one which I have since proven.” The wizard paused to take a sip of wine before continuing. Behind him, Parv chewed on a fingernail and cast nervous looks at the cleric. Reverend Falco, for his part, gave the wizard his full attention. Mordecai had heard all this already, so he watched the cleric for his reactions instead. “There exists in the world four elemental artifacts of great significance left over from the age before ages; one, of course, for each domain. It is my belief that the Heart of Oerth lies beyond this divine barrier below the Clatspurs. It is my belief that he who possesses these four elemental powers can use them to annihilate the Old One. What I want from you,” at that, he gestured at all of the adventurers, “is to enter this Oerthnode and recover the Heart. With it, I will be able to locate the other artifacts.”“How do you expect us to move past this barrier of stone?”“We have a key,” he gestured at Dera, who blushed. Falco looked at her, then back at the wizard questioningly. “I have placed within this young woman a thing of special significance called a living spell. It is not quite sentient, but alive in its own way; it seeks to return whence it came, which is beyond the barrier. When Dera approaches the Oerthnode, the spell will open it.”“Hmmm,” said Falco.“If it helps to think of it as such, you could say that Dera is a scroll upon which the living spell is recorded.”“I see,” said Falco, and then he lapsed into silence. Mordecai sympathized. He hadn’t known the purpose of the living spell until that moment either.A few minutes trickled by. Parv said, “Well?”“I’ll have to think about it.” Reverend Falco appeared distracted as his eyes darted from place to place. He appeared to be thinking rapidly. Deflated, Parv offered, “I understand. Take some time to consider it. But let me know soon. The expedition leaves in two days.”The priest stood up and nodded absently, and a servant materialized with his coat. As he shrugged into it, Dera asked, “Didn’t you say you were on a quest of your own, Reverend? I mean, Jon?”“What? Oh…yes. That’s what I’m considering. My quest is, hmm, open-ended, for lack of a better word. And this could be it.”“Huh?” she said, perplexed. Mordecai shared her confusion. Perhaps he misspoke; he had a lot on his mind just now.Falco shook his head. “I’ll give you my decision on the morrow, my lord. Thank you for dinner.”Parv inclined his head. After the priest concluded his courtesies he departed.“So,” burped Garlok, “Anyone want to go drinking?”</blockquote>

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